


Only the Essentials

by Anthrobrat



Series: Friendly Relations [1]
Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Best Friends, Fluff, Gene is such a piner, M/M, Pining, Pre-Slash, Roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:40:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24256036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anthrobrat/pseuds/Anthrobrat
Summary: "The three things Eugene Roe cannot live without: coffee, blankets to get him through the hellishly low temperatures of Philadelphia, and Babe Heffron's sometimes ridiculously flamboyant fashion sense."This is a very short couch scene wherein Gene frets and makes some realizations about life, himself, and his adorable redheaded roommate. I hope you enjoy :)
Relationships: Babe Heffron/Eugene Roe
Series: Friendly Relations [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1791559
Comments: 11
Kudos: 45





	Only the Essentials

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mariamegale](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mariamegale/gifts).



> This ficlet was inspired by [this work](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1722178/html/) by [mariamegale](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mariamegale/pseuds/mariamegale)
> 
> Also, this is the very first fiction I have ever written, so feedback is welcome!

It turns out there are a lot of things Eugene Roe can live without. He’s learned to live without his close knit family even though he misses his mother and grand-mère like he would miss a lost limb. He’s learned to live without sleep because the hell of Organic Chem is only surpassed by the peculiar intolerability of this second year med school seminar. Add his favorite Cajun spices to the list while you’re at it, because sometimes Philadelphia is a garbage city and his mother’s care packages of Tony’s only last so long. Heat, however, is one thing he just cannot live without in this frozen Yankee tundra, and every time he shivers, Babe, his enigma of a roommate and maybe-best-friend, just finds another blanket to throw over them. 

Which is how he finds himself buried under three blankets on a Sunday afternoon watching reruns of Babe’s fourth favorite show when Babe, king of random trains of thought, asks, “Doc, what five things would you bring to your deserted island?”

His answer is simple. “Coffee.”

“And? That’s only one thing.”

“Blankets?”

“Who brings blankets to an island? Islands are warm! Look at how much the weirdos on this show are sweating!”

“Well, Heffron, arctic islands exist, blankets are useful, and I think this crap northern chill just might stay with me for years.” 

Gene rubs his cold red nose and grabs more of the blanket they’re sharing to prove his point. Or to pull Babe closer. He doesn’t examine that particular compulsion as closely as he should. He also doesn’t tell Babe that he’s quickly becoming another thing he couldn’t live without. That response doesn’t quite fit the assignment. 

“Gene, really? Nothing else? Sparkly chucks? Fruit roll ups? Cheese Sticks? Cereal?”

“Oh! First Aid Kit. Knew I forgot something.” He says with a smirk. Babe tries to kick him in the shin but only succeeds in further tangling himself in the blanket. 

Gene knows he needs to get up and at least try to finish this week’s chapter, and go over his notes from last week one more time, but he’s warm, this train wreck of a show is entertaining, and he finally feels like this whole adventure just might work out. He tips his head back, just for a minute, and listens to the cadence of Babe’s running commentary on who should be voted off next. The man makes some good points, Gene thinks, but drifts off before he can say so.

He wakes up at some point later, groggy, anxious, and alone. It seems like nowadays no rest is good rest and the stress of school and the future bears down on him the moment he opens his eyes. He knows he wants to be a doctor, it’s all he’s ever wanted to do, but the long nights are starting to get to him. To think he’s not even past med school, that it’s only the beginning, that this lifestyle will go on for, potentially, ever, has started to make him itchy. He can live without sleep, and sometimes food, and showers, but this apartment and the person he cohabits with may be non negotiable, which is scary in and of itself. Some days they are the only things keeping him grounded. _This is too deep for a Sunday_ , he thinks to himself. 

Of course now the television is mocking him, too, asking if he’s still watching when he really wasn’t even watching in the first place, but before he can add that to the pile of strange Sunday-induced shit on his shoulders, Babe comes back in with two coffee mugs and a bowl of cereal balanced precariously in his arms. 

“When bingeing, it is important to remember to take a break any time your streaming service thinks you’ve died. The pink mug is yours, can you grab it before I drop this whole mess?”

He peers sleepily up at Babe, who beams back at him, and grabs the pink coffee. He wonders when Babe will learn how to make decent coffee, but manages to keep the grimace off his face. Caffeine is caffeine, and it’s the thought that counts, right? He takes another sip as he tries to remember what had been stressing him out just moments before. Glancing at his stocking feet next to Babe’s bare ones on the coffee table, he lets whatever it was slip a little further from his mind. 

“Mon dieu, Edward, how are you not wearing socks? If you get frostbite, I will not be the one to cut off your toes. I won’t do it.”

“Ah, mon ami - yes Gene, I looked those words up - you forget I grew up here. We Philly boys are hardier than you know. I once raced Bill around our block in a foot of snow. Barefoot! And get this, I still have all my toes!” 

It should not be cute when a grown boy wiggles his toes. It really shouldn’t. But a lot of absurd things just work on Babe. Like too-bright tank tops, too-short shorts, and too-red hair. _Shit._ It’s not that he’s really attracted to Babe in that sort of way - the one where you just want to be around the person, and you think about how their lips or the skin under their left ear might taste, although come to think of it he definitely does - it’s just that Babe is such a breath of fresh air after long days and weeks. Babe is just… he’s Gene’s lighthouse. In a particularly, brightly, beautifully _platonic_ way, he thinks. 

I mean, Babe didn’t seem jealous when Gene dated Chuck, the intern from orientation, for six months, so he assumes this is just how best friend/roommates treat each other. He’s never lived with a best friend, so he assumes there’s just a natural closeness that develops from being around each other day in and day out. They’ve just come to rely on each other for propping up and carrying on, for blustery affection and nonverbal communication. That’s just how they are. 

“You good over there Gene? Because I’m about to start Season 5, and the first episode is really important. That’s where you get the good back stories.”

He should do homework. He should read. He needs to keep moving forward. He’s Eugene Roe and he can live without an hour of TV with Edward Heffron. “Yeah, I’m ready. Let’s do it.”

“You sure, Gene? Are you ok? You seem… extra you today.” Babe has always been more perceptive than people give him credit for. It’s annoyingly wonderful.

“Heffron, play the goddamn episode.” For that he gets a smile, and then a hearty chuckle, before Babe turns back to the TV. Gene finds himself wishing - not for the first time - that he could make time stop just for a little bit, just so he can breathe for a second. Almost as if Babe senses him falling back into darkness, he wraps an arm around Gene and squeezes. 

“One more episode. And then you can go be stressed and learn how to save people and read about weird tumors until your eyes cross.” 

“You know you can’t go cross-eyed from reading, right?” Gene waits for the snarky response, but Babe just laughs and grabs him into a headlock which morphs into more of a hug than anything. Once the head squeezing is over, Gene doesn’t really feel like he needs to move from his position with his head resting on Babe’s chest, and Babe doesn’t seem like he minds. They both move their attention back to the show. One more episode. Is it against the deserted island rules to bring another person?


End file.
